Little Blue Potion
by Twilight to Midnight
Summary: In his final year of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy is determined to claim what should rightfully be his, even if he has to oppose the very girl herself to do it. Hermione Granger. Malfoys always get what they want. Always. AU. DHr. One-shot.


Hello dear readers. I'm Back!

Enjoy the latest installment of my 'writer's block' series...

I'm thinking of doing a novel length DHr...what do you think?

* * *

Draco Malfoy had long ceased to be the boy that he was.

A cowardly little fiend whose sole purpose in life was to make his miserable father and sadistic mother proud of the little monster they had raised.

No, that little boy was long gone and in his place was a monster…desperate only for the most carnal pleasures in life to escape the darkness of his memories and the black stains on his soul.

The great war had ended in his sixth year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and in seeing that the miserable half-blood was losing ground against the order, Draco, unlike his parents had had the sense to rethink his alliances…and just as well. Lord Voldemort fell that very summer, leaving his death eaters with no leadership and no power. As he watched many of his former housemates be trialled and sentenced for war crimes, Draco could only shake his head and thank Merlin that his parents had had the chance to die before the order could capture them.

Though Draco had not come out of the war unscathed, having killed his own father and watched his mother fall to her death from the peak of the astronomy tower, he still found his life reasonably intact.

That summer, he had come of age and had taken his rightful inheritance; much to the reluctance of the ministry, then proceeded to drown all his less favourable memories in strong alcohol and sex. So, when it came time to return for his seventh year of schooling at the above mentioned school, Draco was not surprised to find his reputation for danger and debauchery had indeed preceded him.

And yet, such a reputation seemed to do him more good than harm. Whispers followed him in the hallways, eyes studied him in class and girls simply fell into his bed, lured by the mystery and temptation of the Great War's most surprising hero.

One downside to the entire scandal was the name of Malfoy had been stained irrevocably. Though Draco had had the sense to turn, both his parents had not. They had been loyal to the dark lord even in their death and the wizarding world would not forget it. Rather than being feared and respected, the Malfoy name now only brought jeers and contempt to the minds of all who heard it.

It was with this predicament in mind, dear readers, that the author comes to the present moment in Draco Malfoy's bedroom (being head-boy had its perks) as he sat awake and alert in his bed, completely naked, his modesty preserved only by the thin white sheet clinging perilously to his waist.

With his hair dishevelled and his lips forced into a fierce frown, Draco Malfoy stared intently at the glass he held in his hands, half full with the finest cognac money could buy.

There was a rustle beside him and the sheets were pushed aside to reveal a feminine body vastly different to his own. Draco downed the alcohol in one gulp, replacing the glass on his bedside table before turning his attention to the beauty who now sat upright beside him as she studied him from beneath long soot blonde lashes.

She licked her lips as she stared at his lithe sinewy form, her fingers sliding along his forearm and then along his bicep.

Draco studied her with little interest. He couldn't even remember her name and he would be hard-pressed to remember her face in the morning once she was gone. As far as he was concerned, she was just some 5th year Ravenclaw who bore a little resemblance to the one he truly wanted.

He ripped his arm from her grasp and nearly hit himself from the disgust and self-loathing which her touch had inspired. He had promised himself that he wouldn't do this anymore…and yet…Draco had found himself in this position once more, drinking more and more, hoping that her face would blur and his memories would disappear.

But he couldn't help it god damn it! He had been so frustrated…she had made him so frustrated that he just need some relief from it all!

Draco sneered at the naked girl. "Get dressed and get the fuck out."

The girl's eyes widened almost comically before she launched herself at him, half sprawled on top of him and she clung to his torso.

"But…" Her voice was desperate.

This only made him laugh. "Get the fuck out or you can walk back to your dorms naked!"

The girl's lip quivered but she quickly obeyed him nonetheless. Within a minute, she was haphazardly dressed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gave him a baleful glare, slamming his portrait door behind her.

Draco could only smirk depreciatingly as he ignored her exit and got off the bed. The white sheet slid from his waist, leaving him bare to the cool march weather, as he stretched luxuriously like a cat, the muscles of his back rippling with menacing elegance which foretold great strength concealed in a deceptive form.

He stalked to the door opposite his large four poster bed, pulling it open, he stepped into the large tasteful bathroom, meant to be shared between the two heads and drew himself a bath. He filled the pool-like tub to the brim with steaming hot water and sandalwood essence and lowered his smooth marble-like body into its depths. He hissed, half in pleasure, half in pain, as the water engulfed his form and he carefully dipped his head under. Draco did a few laps of the pool before he scrubbed himself meticulously, determined to get the stench of the nameless whore off his pristine skin.

When finally satisfied with the results, he climbed from the cooling waters and emptied the tub, drying himself with an immaculate white towel before he disposed of it in the laundry basket.

There he stood, in front of the mirror, admiring his reflection as the warmth of the bath water dissipated from his skin. He watched, almost worshipping as the hypnotising ripples of movement consumed his naked form.

In his eyes, he was flawless. In the eyes of the female population of Hogwarts, he was flawless. But why wouldn't she look at him? Why couldn't she give him those lustful glances in the hallways? Why wasn't it her hand which travelled up his thigh in class? Why wasn't she the one who was recklessly sprawled on his bed, begging to be taken again and again until exhaustion overcame her?

Draco's eyes narrowed. Because she was part of the fucking golden trio! The heroes of war…the rulers of the school. No slytherin was going to touch their little Gryffindor princess! He brought her picture to his mind's eye and he closed his eyes to savour the memory. She had been walking outside, wrapped warmly in loose dark robes and a Gryffindor scarf, her cheeks were flushed from the cold and the exertion…and her lips…so delicate and pink…

Draco moaned as he remembered the fucking he enjoyed earlier with the nameless girl. She was nameless, yes, but she certainly was not faceless. Like so many times before, with so many other girls, Draco had insistently turned off the lights, allowing his imagination to run wild as he pictured wild curls and honey orbs and put them on the supple and willing body writhing beneath his. Every inarticulate moan from her lips would morph into a moan in her husky, musical tones; every answering thrust to his actions would be a confirmation of her reciprocating passion.

He did it on purpose. He chose them on purpose. The girls always bore some resemblance to her. Same height, same build, same colouring…whatever it was…the closest he could get to a likeness of her…the only way to have her.

His body ached as his eyes fluttered open from his wandering thoughts. The part of him which made him so notorious among the Hogwarts female population, rose between his thighs, proud, unyielding and erect.

"Hermione." His voice was a mere whisper, a sepulchral whisper which held a myriad of dark midnight promises.

His eager hands stroked his straining cock as the breath hissed from between his lips. Draco's eyes wandered to another door, opposite his own and quickly ventured towards it. Whispering a quick plea of forgiveness for his intrusion, he twisted the door knob and silently pushed open the heavy door.

Draco's eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness of her room as his nose took in the scent of her which lingered soothingly in her room. Inch by inch, he moved towards the dark silhouette of her form, asleep on the bed.

Hermione's face was turned towards him, her expression peaceful and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek.

He smiled tenderly. "What are you dreaming of, my love?" He whispered to her still form as his hand gently stroked her bare arm. "Of me, I hope."

Suddenly, his gaze turned bitter and his smile cold. All she had to do was open her eyes and she would see him there, naked and aroused, caressing her as only a lover had the right to do. She would most likely scream and reach for the wand which she slept with under her pillow, a habit she had developed during the war. She would undoubtedly curse him then report him to the authorities and he would be expelled without even having a chance with her.

Despite the risk, Draco couldn't tear himself away. He just wanted a moment longer…just another moment. He only ever felt safe this way…he felt peace…it was what she offered him, even unknowingly and he couldn't bear to be away from her.

Hermione shifted and she gave a small moan.

Draco froze but only moments later he had sprung into action again. Her little moan had gone straight to his groin and he suddenly felt dangerously light-headed as his blood rushed to his already painfully hard cock. He could only back himself into the shadows and lean against her desk, the cheeks of his ass pressing into the cool surface as his hand gripped his cock and pumped furiously at the sensitive flesh. Draco conjured images of her, willing and eager, her pert little breasts bouncing as she rode him hard for her own pleasure.

With a grunt, Draco emptied himself all over his hand. He couldn't help it. No matter how many times he had sex that night, he would get hard again in an instant if he thought of her.

Weak and boneless after his release, Draco slid to the floor and lay against the plush carpet staring into the darkness. He cursed himself as he felt a wave of self-pity roil in his stomach. Is this what the great Draco Malfoy had become? Is this what he'd been reduced to? For Merlin's sake! He was so obsessed with the girl he couldn't have that he broke into her room in the dead of the night and jacked off against her desk!

Both disgusted and restless, Draco quickly made his way back to his own room, careful to close her door behind him.

Hermione would never love him the way he wanted…she was dating the Weasel…and rumoured to be rather happy.

Draco sneered in disgust. A woman of her quality wasn't meant for trash like Ronald Weasley. The red head didn't truly appreciate what a gem Hermione was, a pearl amongst pebbles and only Draco could love and worship her the way she deserved. A woman like her wasn't meant to be stifled in a relationship such as theirs. She would undoubtedly marry the Weasel, give him a brood of red-headed brats and forget that Draco Malfoy ever existed in her life.

He nearly screamed at the thought.

No! He wouldn't allow it!

Slipping quietly towards the desk in his bedroom, Draco pulled open a drawer stuffed to the brim with spare parchments and reached through the mess. Instantly, his fingers encountered resistance. He pushed harder and his fingertips warmed for a moment before sinking straight through. As soon as he felt the velvet pouch, his hand closed around it and he pulled the small bag from it hiding place.

The dark velvet pouch looked innocent resting against his pale hand and the irony made him smirk. Undoing the drawstrings, he released a small vial of blue liquid from its confines and carefully examined it under the light of the full moon. The liquid seemed to shift for a moment before becoming crystal clear, making Draco smile in appreciation.

"Whispy!" His voice rang through his bedroom.

A moment later there was a pop and a dull looking house elf appeared before the naked young man. Its huge tennis ball-like eyes gazed with loyalty upon its master and it bowed, deep and respectful.

"Master called." It whispered reverently.

Draco nodded. "How do you like working in Hogwarts?"

The house elf nodded frantically. "Whispy is very happy master! Master is too kind!"

Draco did not acknowledge the praise; instead he took the cork from the bottle of clear potion and placed it carefully upon his desk. Reaching up, he pulled out three strands of hair from his head, holding the platinum blond strands between his fingertips in the moonlight. One by one, he placed his hair into the clear liquid, the wisps instantly dissolving as if it had never existed.

"One for lust, one for passion and one for love." He whispered to the bottle. The task done, he reinserted the cork and gave it to the house elf before him. "You are to put one drop in Hermione's food for every meal, is that understood?"

The house elf nodded enthusiastically. "Whatever the master wishes."

Draco nodded. "No one is to know of this."

The small drab creature bowed. "I will die before I reveal this secret, master!"

* * *

The effect was subtle. Nothing worth noticing. Hermione was still dating the Weasel as April approached, bringing with it warmer weather and more frustration for Draco.

At least, that was how it appeared on the surface to any other observer. Within the golden trio…things were looking a little different.

Hermione sat at her usual table in the library, several large texts spread out before her as her quill moved furiously against her parchment. She was working harder than was usual as NEWTS were fast approaching and Hermione's pre-exam panic had nearly completely set in.

An impatient clearing of throats was heard and she looked up, her curls swinging with the sudden movement of her head. She glanced to her left and smiled at the boy who stood there.

"Hey Ron."

The boy beamed at her and took a seat on the empty bench next to her. He leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips and lingered as his hands slowly crept towards her shirt.

Hermione sat there. Something was wrong…in fact…something had been off for a few days. Instead of feeling that fuzzy little tingle she used to feel when she kissed her boyfriend, it had faded into indifference and now, as she allowed his hand to slide up and cup her breast…it just…felt so wrong.

She pulled away in an instant and yanked Ron's hand from her chest. She gave him an awkward smile and tried to shift away.

Ronald Weasley frowned. "What's wrong Mione? You've been…"

Hermione felt her frustration snap. "Nothing's wrong," she answered angrily. "I'm just trying to study for the NEWTS and you're not helping at all!" She had been so irritable the past fortnight that Hermione now thought little of her outburst. Everything was getting on her nerves, Harry, Ginny, Ron…Draco Malfoy. At any other time, this may have seemed suspicious to Hermione's penetrating mind but with the most important examinations of her life approaching, she simply brushed off the moods as a by product of stress.

Her boyfriend however, was not so understanding. "Merlin Hermione! That time of the month is it?"

This however, was clearly the wrong thing to say to a stressed out workaholic and Hermione gave him an icy glare, her voice no warmer than the arctic winds.

"Go away, Ronald before we both say something we'll regret!"

Ron Weasley flushed a deep red and stormed off, leaving Hermione rubbing her temples, both in frustration and fatigue. By instinct, she looked up and searched the library stacks for any signs of witnesses to her little spat and quickly met the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

He gave her an indefinable smile and Hermione felt electricity jolt through her body and melt her core, making her shift in her seat.

What on earth was that?

* * *

"We're over!" Hermione's voice was loud and echoed through a suddenly silent great hall. She sounded furious to all those who heard her exclamations and neighbouring tables were left to wonder what her boyfriend had done to incite such a reaction from his normally placid girlfriend.

Ron Weasley was standing at the Gryffindor table, bright red and gasping as he tried to come to terms with Hermione's exclamation.

As a warm may breeze swept through the great hall, unmindful of the drama which was unfolding within the deathly silent room, Hermione regained her composure in front of a vast audience of students and teachers who had suddenly lost interest in their lunches.

"Over? That's it?" Ron sounded incredulous.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Yes, Ronald. It's over. I've had enough of this."

Ron crossed the space between them and grasped her by both arms, shaking her desperately if not a little violently in his panic. The great hall gasped collectively as the teachers stood, ready to interfere if the situation got anymore out of hand. Ron paid no attention to the ramifications of his actions and instead shook her harder when he got no response.

"But I love you." He whispered, then louder. "I love you! You can't just…you can't…No! I won't let you! We are not over! I love you and you love me! You…after all we've been through…the war…"

Hermione looked pained but she resolutely stared him down. "I'm sorry Ron, but I only think of you as a friend. You're almost like a brother…"

Ron shook his head, refusing to give credit to her words. His fingers tightened brutally around her arms making her cry out in pain.

"No! It is not over until I say so!"

Hermione's temper snapped. She wrenched herself free from his grip just as the teachers were about to approach and slapped him, hard, across his right cheek. Already a red hand print was showing itself on his skin.

"The world doesn't revolve around you ego, Ronald." She hissed. "Don't come near again!"

The students gasped. Was this the split of the famous golden trio? Was this how it was all going to end? Hermione provided a resounding answer for that question when she stormed from the great hall, ignoring the calls of both Harry and Ginny.

* * *

Draco Malfoy's smile was no less frightening in the dim twilight as he stood facing the window of his room, behind him, a house elf stood, semi-bent as if it feared to rise any further.

Eventually, Draco turned towards it, his smile fading from his lips at the sight of the submissive creature.

"How much of the potion is left, Whispy?"

The house elf seemed to quiver at the sound of his master's voice but answered almost immediately. "Around a fifth of the bottle, master."

Draco's smiled turned predatory. "Good. Give her all of it tomorrow night at dinner."

Whispy stuttered a nervous acquiescence and disappeared from the room.

* * *

Hermione was hot…in fact…for mid-may, the weather was downright stifling. Her entire body was tingling and she suddenly felt an intense hunger that she knew food could not satiate. She felt heat flow through her veins like a drug and made the fine hairs on her body stand on end. The place between her legs melted unexplainably and Hermione found herself rubbing her thighs together in a desperate attempt to stop the pulsing ache which was building like pressure behind a dam, wanting desperately to be fulfilled and released.

Determined to escape from the curious glances of her fellow classmates which had followed her ever since her rather public break up with Ron, Hermione quickly polished off the rest of her dessert and stood from her isolated end of the Gryffindor table.

Walking swiftly past the many rows of students, a hand suddenly caught hers and pulled her to a stop. She glared at the hand that held hers and met a pair of lush green eyes.

"Harry." She said, relaxing slightly.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Without waiting for her answer, he ploughed ahead. "I mean, I know Ron can be an ass, but can't you just…"

Hermione was so impatient that she didn't even wait for Harry to finish his sentence.

"No, I can't. Excuse me."

She wrenched her hand free, suddenly desperate to find somewhere private…anywhere, so that she could try to relieve the ache which fractured her self –control and soaked through the scrap of lace called underwear.

As she arrived at the entrance hall, she caught of glimpse of the thunderous weather outside, the rain pouring down and lightening streaked across the sky in a spectacular show of wonder and light. In an instant, she was sprinting towards the doors and threw herself into the downpour, feeling the sensual caress of water as it cascaded down her skin and soaked her dark robes.

Not wanting to be disturbed, she ran further and further from the great doors of Hogwarts, heading resolutely towards the dark shelter of the forbidden forest. A bolt of heat suddenly shot through her core and Hermione nearly doubled over from the pleasure. Unable to resist, still standing in the middle of a dark field, she slipped a hand beneath her soaked skirt and rubbed her fingers roughly across the soaked apex between her thighs, her moan swallowed by a rumble of thunder.

By now, Hermione was well beyond thought. She had never pleasured herself in her life, let alone had sex, but Hermione was suddenly feeling very open to both options. In light of her situation, self pleasure seemed to be the ideal way to go as there was not a soul in sight.

She was nearly in the coverage of the dark forest when another bolt of unbearable pleasure shot through her veins and pooled between her supple thighs. It felt as if an invisible force was slowly easing into her hot soaking centre and stretching her to the brink of blinding pleasure.

Hermione sank to her knees, unable to take it; she slid her hand under her skirt and pushed aside her underwear. Her fingers met no resistance as they slid right in, it was like the walls of her core were coated in a layer of melted hot butter and soon she had to slide finger after finger into the tight hot space to sate her desire, but it still wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

She gave a rough thrust and hissed as the pleasure started building, pleased by her results and ever the fast learner; Hermione repeated the action, soaking her fingers in her juices as she gave another rough thrust into her boiling hot centre.

Merlin! If she had known it would be this good, she would have tried this out ages ago. Blinded by the rain and her own desire to reach a peak, Hermione closed her eyes as her hand continued frantically, in and out, her fingers sliding violently through the rough wet curls. She was sure that she was doing it wrong, that the precarious crux between her thighs wasn't meant to be battered as if it were the defending walls of Troy but she was desperate and nearing that perilous edge and the rougher her actions, the more pleasure she seemed to derive from it. Yet, suddenly, without warning, an image of white blond hair and slate grey eyes flashed through her mind, sending heat and pleasure spiralling through her in torrential waves, her overwrought core almost crushing her fingers in a relentless grip as the walls pulsed and quivered.

Unbidden, a scream rose to her lips. "Draco!"

Instantly, her fingers were pulled from her core and Hermione looked up to see the spitting image of her fantasies staring her down with an inexpressible look in his eyes. Holding her hand, he put each of her soaking fingers in his mouth and licked them clean.

"Mmm…sweet…" His voice was as real as any caress.

Hermione whimpered. The fire between her legs was starting again even though it had only been sated moments before. But that was by her own fingers and she suddenly had an overwhelming feeling that Draco Malfoy's cock would be infinitely better.

Without hesitation, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the soaking grass and began carrying her towards the shelter of the forbidden forest. For miles around, the magical creatures of the dark forest felt the intense call of a male human claiming its mate and moved far from the predatory danger that mating could bring.

Meanwhile, Hermione lay complacent in his arms, her mouth nibbling at the flesh above the collar of his soaked shirt. Without warning, she was laid down on the bed of the forest floor and she found herself staring up into the stormy night sky, obscured by only a little canopy, as the rain fell in fat droplets upon her face.

Draco watched her intently, almost beyond thought at his incredible triumph. It wasn't his fault that he had to resort to such measures…if only she had opened her eyes and seen him herself, then she wouldn't have to have gone through this ordeal.

Not that Hermione really seemed to mind at that moment. She purred as Draco's long slender fingers slid up her thigh. With him barely touching her, Hermione experienced a third wave of absolute pleasure sweep through her small body and pool in the magnificent place beneath her curls. She felt that same force re-enter her aching cunt and swirl around the pulsing walls with amazing expertise.

Unable to take any more of her panting and moaning, Draco stripped all her clothes from her body, revealing milky flesh which shimmered in the sudden streak of lightening. His eyes took in the heaving breasts, the soft supple stomach and finally found the patch of wet curls at the apex of her thighs. Between those two long, slender legs, lay a wealth of absolute pleasure that Draco could barely wait to plunder.

"You're a hot little bitch, Granger." Draco was in no mood to be tender. He would save the love making for later, when he was well and truly satiated, but for now, what he needed and what Hermione desperately wanted was a rough and thorough fucking.

Hermione moaned at his words and desperately tore at his clothes. She didn't care if anything ripped beneath her eager fingers, all she wanted, truly wanted was for him to take her virginity here, on the forest floor, in the middle of a thunderstorm which would muffle her screams of absolute pleasure.

Draco gave a growl of pleasure as his clothing was discarded and he pressed his hot flesh against hers, a stark contrast to the cool rain which fell on them relentlessly. He knelt above her and stretched in carnal desire as he allowed the rain to bathe his rock hard cock in its moisture. He slammed his lips down against hers, meeting no resistance as she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to fuck hers, exploring every crevice, every line with a meticulous sweep.

He could barely take the pressure building within him and he reached a hand down to her cunt and fingered her precious entrance with a kind of tenderness Hermione didn't expect. She writhed beneath his ministrations and thrust frenziedly against his assault.

She screamed as he continued. "No Draco, I want…I want it all! Now! Stick your cock inside me and…" She was cut off without warning as he did exactly as she demanded. He broke straight through her virginity, burying himself to the hilt. Her cunt was an exquisite molten core; she burnt him and clenched her muscles around his thick cock like she never wanted to let it go. The pure sensuality of the moment nearly made him come right there. Moments before, his cock had been bathed in cool rain, now it was soaked in her boiling hot cum, the change of sensation bringing shockwaves to both he and Hermione.

Hermione was so aroused that she hardly felt his intrusion. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed herself frantically against him.

"Go Draco!"

He didn't need to be told twice. Draco pulled his fat cock out of her weeping pussy and then violently sunk back in, making him rear back in pure male satisfaction as he allowed a reckless growl to be sent into the silence of the night. He pulled out again and repeatedly penetrated her tight hot cunt, battering her pussy like he couldn't stop the wild, frenzied passion which rocked his entire soul.

Hermione screamed with each pleasurable thrust, ecstasy singing through her veins as she felt her pussy accommodate his long, thick cock. Her tears mingled with the rain drops as the desire pushed her beyond the edge of sensation, making her cry out feverishly as she bit down on his shoulder to muffle her cry. She heard him groan loudly and felt his hot seed flood the inside of her cunt, making her pussy clench forcefully around every inch of his aching flesh and drawing out their pleasure with frightening intensity.

As they both gasped for breath, the rain subsided and the clouds were swept away by a gust of wind. Draco watched as the moon cast a brilliant glow on Hermione's skin, the beads of sweat and rain drops shimmering like diamonds caught in eternal sunlight.

She was smiling at him as she shifted on the forest floor. Instantly, Draco knew that such desperate measures were worth it. Any guilt he could have possibly felt at drugging the one girl that he loved flew out the window and Draco chose instead to focus on the incredible creature that was languishing in the aftermath of a truly vigorous fucking.

Thinking about what they had done just made him hard again, thus, flipping both of them over, so that Hermione straddled him, he grasped her hips and guided her up and down his cock as she left a shimmering trail of their combined releases on his body. He could tell from their pace that this would be another round of fucking rather than love making…no…he would do that later, when he could drag it on and slowly draw her to the precipice with pleasure blurring the lines of reality and fantasy…for now…both of them needed several more rounds of thorough fucking.

* * *

If anyone questioned the rapidity of Draco and Hermione's relationship, none dared to voice it.

If anyone questioned the haste of their marriage, none were allowed to voice it.

For, in capturing Hermione, Draco Malfoy had effectively combined the best of both worlds. Muggle and magical, light and dark. Together, they were the epitome of the term 'power couple' and Draco made sure that no one could oppose or separate them.

To this day, Hermione knows nothing of the potion which was slipped to her by a loyal house elf in the Hogwarts kitchen, nor the small detail that such a large dose would have a permanent effect on the victim.

Though both Ron Weasley and Harry Potter put up much of a fight towards their union, they could not refute the evidence that Hermione Malfoy (nee Granger) was head over heals in love with her husband Draco or vice versa.

So dear readers, it is here that the author shall leave you, appropriately with the final scene within Malfoy manor, in the magnificent east wing, in the master suite, in the large, plush bed where Hermione lay, peacefully dozing, as her husband stroked her as only a lover has the right to do.

He whispers to her swollen belly, his fingers lovingly comforting his unborn son.

"So you see, Christian, a Malfoy always gets what he wants."

* * *

A/N: I always loved the idea of dark Draco...gives him a certain appeal don't you think?


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